


Pink Rabbits

by Hermitstull



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermitstull/pseuds/Hermitstull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was solid gold<br/>I was in the fight<br/>I was coming back from what seemed like a ruin<br/>I couldn't see you coming so far<br/>I just turn around and there you are</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Rabbits

**Pink Rabbits**

She’d started coming in about eight months ago, sitting in the same chair at the far end of the bar, ordering Glenlivet so old that the owner had to pull in a couple of favors to get another bottle once they’d gone through the only one they had in stock.

After about a month of visits, he’d finally learned her name, Emily. She worked for the county, in the crime lab to be specific, doing something with DNA testing. The bar had been especially loud for a Thursday so he didn’t catch it all.  It sounded like many degrees were required and he was impressed.

A couple of weeks later he’d learned more about her past. How she had moved around for the past few years, spending time in her hometown of London, before going to California, then Wyoming, a few other places before here.

“Any place you like better than the others?” He asked.

“South Dakota,” she smiled. “It’s the only place I ever called home.”

He’d been behind the bar long enough to know there was a story there. A story, most likely, about the one that got away. You could always tell because of the haunted look in the eyes or sad smile.

Another customer needed a refill before he could ask about South Dakota. By the time he’d gotten back she’d left, leaving far too large a bill for the one drink she’d ordered.

It was several weeks before he saw here again. He was afriad that he might have scared off his favorite customer after that conversation. She sat in her usual chair and he grinned as he set down the Scotch in front of her.  After a moment of chit chat her phone buzzed.

“Hello darling,” pause. “Yes, I’m here.”

He stepped away to give her privacy as she continued to talk. Something was different about Emily. She seemed lighter than before.  A few minutes later the door opened and a tall woman with vibrant blue eyes and long blonde hair came and headed straight for Emily.

Well, that was unexpected.

He came over and introductions were made. The blonde, Michelle, was a neighbor of Emily’s. She worked for a law firm downtown as a defense attorney. They had met when Michelle found Dickens-Emily’s cat-who had escaped one day while Emily was at work.

They chatted about mundane things as he made Michelle’s Pink Rabbit. He liked her right away, just like Emily, and they were obviously smitten with each other.  As he stepped away and the pair moved off to a booth, he thought about how he pictured her with someone different.  Maybe darker hair, different eyes, something. Shaking his head, he moved off to help another customer.

He didn’t see Emily as much after meeting Michelle. She’d been a 3 or 4 (sometimes 5) nights a week customer. Coming in to chat, have a drink or two, then leave for the night.  Emily and Michelle would come in maybe once or twice every other week or so.  They’d always be glad to talk for a bit, sharing tidbits about their adventures. (We went camping last weekend, Emily had never been to the National Forrest) or their thoughts on the last movie they’d seen (since you don’t believe in physics, then that’s the perfect movie for you Michelle).  Each time they seemed closer than the last.

It had been almost a month since he’d last seen either of them when Emily finally returned. She was with someone new and he felt his stomach drop. Emily looked tired, more tired than he’d ever seen her. And the weight was back, heavier than it’d ever been before.

She was with another woman who he’d never seen. She looked vaguely familiar for some reason, but he couldn’t quite place her.

Emily plopped down in her usual chair and he quickly poured a double. The other woman headed towards the restrooms.

“Everything okay,” he asked, nodding towards the restroom.

“Not quite,” Emily answered truthfully, her accent rough.

“What’s your friend having?”

“Vodka soda,” the other woman appeared next to Emily. She was tall, with long dark unruly hair and striking green eyes.

“Coming right up.”

As he mixed, the other woman, Myka (he overhead) pointed to a booth in the back. Emily nodded as the other woman moved off. He noticed how Emily’s eyes never left Myka’s form as she went over the booth and sat down.

“Here you go,” he said, setting the drink down. “Want me to top you off before you head over?”

“Yes, please.”

“So,” he paused, thinking back to a conversation they’d shared months ago. “South Dakota?”

Emily nodded, sighing deeply as she turned back towards Myka. “I’m so surprised you want to dance with me now. I was just getting used to living life without you around.”

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Hmm,” Emily turned back around, accepting her drink. “Oh nothing.”

He kept an eye on the pair for the rest of the night. They never came over and asked for another drink but he could see by their body language the conversation was not an easy one.   After a couple of hours, Myka got up to leave. He couldn’t help but notice her brushing something off of her cheek as she hurried by.

A phone call from his boss about tomorrow’s inventory took his attention away from the corner booth in the back where Emily sat.

At the end of two months he’d given up on seeing Emily again.  He liked Michelle quite a bit but it was obvious that Myka was the one that Emily let slip away.  Hopefully wherever Emily was, she was happy.

He was in the back when he heard a familiar English accent order Glenlivet neat.  Emily was in her familiar stool at the end of the bar.

“I’ve got this,” he reached for the bottle and began to pour.  After a moment, he pulled a second glass down.

Emily gave him a faint smile as he set her drink down.  He raised his glass in toast and they both sipped the smooth Scotch.

“They said it would be painless,” she began. “It wasn’t that at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Slow day at work + The National on repeat=this. Thanks for reading.


End file.
